


A Haunting

by WingsOfLibra



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: He does not do outdoors well, Hux is a city boy, Hux is haunted, Kinda a horror fic, M/M, Paranormal Resistance Squad, Phasma can drink anyone under the table, Phasma is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsOfLibra/pseuds/WingsOfLibra
Summary: Hux tipped his head back and waited a few minutes before grabbing his phone and pressing down on the call button.  He listened to the dial tone, still in disbelief that it had come to this.The other end of the line picked up and a far too cheerful voice spoke.  “Hello, this is Paranormal Resistance Squad. How may we be of service?”Hux leaned one elbow on his thigh, regret already creeping through him.  “I believe my house is haunted.”





	1. Chapter 1

The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees and single pane glass, flushing over the window seat cushions and falling to the hardwood floor.  Sitting in the pool of sunlight on the window seat, one leg folded in front of him the other flat foot on the ground, Hux turned the calling card over and over between his fingers.  He fidgeted with his phone, clicking the lock screen on and off.

Hux flicked through his lock code and thumbed to the number screen.  He tapped in the number from the card.  His thumb hovered over the dial sign before he pressed the home button and flipped the phone over to lie screen down on the cushions.  Hux tipped his head back and waited a few minutes before grabbing his phone and pressing down on the call button.  He listened to the dial tone, still in disbelief that it had come to this.

The other end of the line picked up and a far too cheerful voice spoke.  “Hello, this is Paranormal Resistance Squad. How may we be of service?”

Hux leaned one elbow on his thigh, regret already creeping through him.  “I believe my house is haunted.”

 

Later that week Hux opened the door to what could only be described as “peppy knocking.”  Two men stood on his porch in casual clothing, one with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.  The first wore a charming smile, the second a more reserved, polite smile.

“Hello, I’m Poe.  Poe Dameron.”  The first man said extending his arm for a handshake that held more enthusiasm than necessary.  “This is Finn.  We’re the resistance.  The Paranormal Resistance Squad.  Well, we’re only _part_ of the squad.”  Poe ran a hand through his hair and glanced around the property.  “You have a really nice place. Kinda far out, but nice. Bet it’s really quiet. You alone out here?”

Finn gently pushed in front of his companion and reached out to shake Hux’s hand as well.  “Hello, I guess you’re Mr. Hux, right?”  His handshake was short and more professional if a bit tight.

“Yes, just Hux, please.”  Hux crossed his arms over his chest, resisting the temptation to lean against his doorframe as he silently judged the two men.  Not that he expected much professionalism from a ghost chasing company, but he felt his expectations slide even further down the gradient. Poe lacked any sort of professionalism from the way he rambled through his introduction, down to his piss poor James Bond impression. At least Finn seemed descent when he tried to reign in his coworker, even if he was late in stopping Poe from making himself out to be spacy son-of-a-bitch.

The silence stretched for a long moment.  Poe continued to look around, seemingly enchanted by the old house and surrounding area.  Finn fidgeted with the hem of his leather jacket and attempted to speak twice before actually making a sound.  “May we come in?”

Hux gestured for them to enter, he stood in the middle of the living area and waited, arms crossed while Finn and Poe shuffled into the house.

“Shoes off, please,”  Hux said watching Poe continue to look around with his smile still in full play.

“Oh, right, of course.”  They placed their shoes and next to the door with toes to the wall.  Finn had classic black socks while Poe’s had small alien spaceships. Hux peeled his gaze away and willed himself not to roll his eyes.

“So, um--,” Finn started, but Poe snapped back into focus and took control of the conversation.

“We are part of the Paranormal Resistance Squad, like I mentioned, and we are here to do a preliminary search of your suspected property.”

“We check out to see if your house is really haunted, and then call in the rest of the team to look into more of the supernatural elements,” Finn chimed in.

“Right.  So. . .,” Poe rummaged in his messenger bag pulling out a tablet and turned to Hux expectantly.  “What makes you think you house is haunted?”

Hux shifted his weight, “Items move.  I leave them in one spot and find them in another.”  Poe typed on his tablet.

“Are there any items in particular that move around?”  Finn asked.

“Keys, books, sometimes pens.”

Finn and Poe exchanged looks.  Hux sighed slightly.

“Could you maybe show us where the books usually move to?”  Poe asked, trying to keep skepticism from his voice.

Hux moved to the large window seat in the southwest corner of his house.  “I find books here, usually travel and history novels.”  He gestured to the bookshelf in the wall just above the green seat cushions then to the large bookshelf across the room.  “Books move from shelf to shelf at times.”  He padded over to the other side of the room, passing the kitchen, “Books appear on the counters too.”  He reached the couch and patted the dark leather back, “Books also turn up here and on the other chairs.”

Poe and Finn walked through the room after Hux. Poe looked relatively unconvinced; Finn looked mostly nonplused.  “What do you do for work, Hux?” Poe asked, glancing at the large bookshelf.

“I am a novel editor.  Most of those are reference materials.”

Finn looked like he just understood a plot point and nudged Poe, barely hiding his eye roll.  Poe gave him a reprimanding look and lowered his tablet.

“Do you ever hear strange noises around the house?”  Poe asked

“No.”

A loud thump sounded from the bookshelf, startling Finn who inhaled sharply and gripped Poe’s sleeve.  Poe stiffened for a second before forceably relaxing his posture.  Hux only turned to the bookshelf, reached up and dragged his cat from the recesses of the third shelf up.

“Millie, you know better than to scare guests,” Hux admonished pointedly looking at Finn’s death grip on Poe’s jacket.  He shifted Millicent to lay cradled in his arms belly up.

Finn cleared his throat and detached his fingers from Poe’s sleeve.  “What kind of cat is that, it’s huge,” Finn asked staring at Millicent who’s green eyes stared back unblinking.

“Her name is Millicent.  She is a Ragdoll mix,” Hux explained and shifted his grip to under her front legs and to show how Millicent slumped into his grip, tail twitching.  He then hung her over his shoulder like a small sack of potatoes and bent to pick up the book she pawed off the shelf.  He slotted the paperback into its place and then dumped Millicent on the couch where she stayed belly up and stared at Finn who looked a tad unnerved about being under her attention.

Poe looked between Finn and Millicent, who were locked in a staring contest, and looked mildly perplexed before shaking it off and turned back to Hux to continue his line of inquiery.

“Are there any sudden changes in temperature?”

“Not quite, but the windows are single pane and drafty.”

“Ever see any unexplained movement.”

“Not that I have noticed.”

“Is there anything else that seems out of the ordinary?”  Poe sounded slightly disappointed.

“The chess pieces move and the radio sometimes turns on but that could be faulting wiring, it is close to being ancient.”

“Wait, you said the chessboard plays itself?”  Finn interjected.

Hux ignored him.  “And a few days ago, I found. . .” Hux paused and bit his lip, still unwilling to acknowledge that it happened by mentioning it.  “Let me show you.” He led the other two into his study and over to his desk.  He pulled over an edited draft of an unfinished novel. Red ink scrawled over the pages.

“What does this--” Finn started.

Hux brought out a second edited draft, the red marking much neater.  “Someone touched my work.”

Poe and Finn bent to examine the two drafts.  Their expressions reflecting disbelief as they thumbed through the messily edited draft.  There were at least three distinctly different handwritings and maybe four different writing styles in punctuation and lengthy comments.  On one page the word “pen” had been edited to “penis” before being crossed out and next to in written in the margin in tight loopy handwriting the words “You should be ashamed.”

Finn chuckled sounding a little unnerved, “Talk about ghost writing.”

Poe straightened up from where he had been bending over the desk, Finn continued to page though draft occasionally chuckling.

“Sorry, if we didn’t believe you at first.”  Poe waved his hands through the air, “It’s just that we get the occasional client that thinks they’re haunted but are either absent minded, have bad roommates, rats, faulting wiring, all sorts of things.  And you’re far out from people, and alone in this place, except for you cat of course, and you seem to read a lot--”

“I understand,”  Hux cut in, not wanting to hear about how lonely he appeared from a stranger.

“Right.  I would like to get the rest of the team out here.  Our mediums.  They should do a walk through, check the place out.  If they decide it’s okay, then we will set up a schedule and go from there.  Your place is quite a drive so this could take longer than usual.  We’d have to space meetings out a little more.”

“And if your. . .  teammates decide not to,” Hux search for an appropriate term, “Work, what will happen then?”

Poe looked Hux straight in the eye.  “You’re shit out of luck.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hux collapsed gracefully into one of his two overstuffed armchairs, tipping his head on to the backrest. The two men form the “Resistance” as they kept calling their company, had left a few hours earlier. Poe and Hux had talked over scheduling the next meeting, Finn had continued to read over the draft and chuckle. If the mediums agreed to work, they would talk over lodging and expenses. Since he lived out on the peninsula and the company was based on the mainland they would potentially work every other weekend.

Hux took a long swallow from his wine glass and set it on top of the chessboard, moving a black knight and white rook out of the way. The pieces had moved around since he had last glanced at it, maybe two or three moves had been played. Pushing thoughts of sentient chess pieces to the back of his mind he wriggled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Phasma.

“Country living boring you already? It’s been, what, three days since we last talked?”

Hux smiled at her teasing, “Arkanis can have quite the night life.”

“Hux, that town has barely six hundred people on a good day. There is only one paved road and everything closes at 8 P.M.”

“Clearly you haven’t visited the local bar.”

“What, do they have Hawaiian Fridays where the patrons dress up more than the staff?”

“And Whiskey Wednesdays.”

He smiled at Phasma’s exaggerated groan and sipped his merlot.

“It gets better.”

“How?” Phasma deadpanned.

“They have a poetry slam every month. It’s more of a local talent show. They seem to be quite proud of it.”

Phasma sighed, exasperated. Hux finished off his glass and walked to the kitchen for a second one. He set his phone on the counter pressing the speaker button and uncorked the reusable stopper from the bottle.

“This can’t be all you called me for,” Phasma paused, “unless you are going stir-crazy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I think small town life suits me.”

A small furry body pressed up against his legs and gave a distinctly plaintive meow.

Hux looked down at his cat weaving between his legs, “It’s not even close to dinner time Millie.” Millicent jumped up on the counter and tried to brush against his wine glass and meowed again. Hux grabbed the tipping glass. “Millie, not on the counters.” He slid the stemware across the granite and refilled it.

“You’ve been there for three months, just wait, winter is coming.”

Hux grabbed Millicent and draped her over his shoulder then snatched up his glass and phone and headed back to his seat.

“Yes, yes, thank you Ned, House of Stark.” Back in the armchair Hux placed his phone on the armrest and Millicent in his lap. He went to place his glass back on the chessboard after taking a sip when he noticed that the pieces that he has displaced where back to their original positions. Hux looked away, took another healthy swig of wine and kept ahold of his glass.

They lapsed into silence. Millicent purred contentedly, kneading his thighs as Hux scratched her behind the ears. After a few minutes, he spoke, “I called the ghost busters.”

“You did? When? Didn’t I give you their card over a month ago?”

“I called them a few days ago, they came over to do a ‘preliminary inspection’ today.”

“Hux,” Phasma sighed annoyed, “why didn’t you call them sooner? Your house is unnatural.”

Hux stayed silent.

“You’re not oblivious. I know you noticed all those weird things happening. I just wanted to . . . Hux—" Phasma exhaled loudly over the speaker. Millicent’s ears twitched, but Hux stroked her down her spine and she settled, purring like a small engine.

“Are we still on for the first?”

“Would you like to come down Friday? It is a day early, but—"

“I would love to. I’ll bring season three.”

Hux rolled his eyes at Phasma’s determination to make him watch the entirety of Game of Thrones. “Good. Bring a Hawaiian shirt.” Hux smiled at Phasma’s disgusted noise.

“And Hux,” she paused, “I’m glad you called them. See you in two weeks.”

Hux pressed the end-call button and finished his merlot in the relative quiet of his house, listening to Millicent purr.

* * *

 

“I don’t think he appreciated our efforts,” Obi-Wan quipped, hovering near the sliding glass door that opened to the back porch.

“Ungrateful, that one is,” Yoda muttered, sitting on the kitchen counter and staring at Hux who was playing with the stem of his wine glass. “Lacking in manners, he is.”

“I would appreciate it if he stopped messing with our chess game,” Mace grouched, floating on the opposite side of the sliding door as Obi-Wan. He was watching the birdbath in the backyard, which contained an unusual number of birds.

“I liked our edits,” Anakin said leaning against the wall next to Obi-Wan. He turned to his late mentor. “I thought they were good.”

“No Anakin. Our edits,” Obi-Wan gestured to Mace and Yoda who tapped his cane against the counter, “were good. Yours were childish at best.”

“I thought they were funny,” Anakin grumbled crossing his arms over his chest and turned to Mace ignoring Obi-Wan’s none too subtle eye roll. “How is Qui-Gon?”

“He is talking to a hummingbird. Probably trying to communicate that it should keep its aggressiveness to a minimum at the watering hole.” Mace snorted in amusement. “It looks like it is arguing back.”

Anakin grinned. “Who’s winning?”

“The bird. Oh, it just dive-bombed him. I don’t think I’ve seen him this upset in a while. He’s gone to the edge of the yard. He’s sulking, over a bird.”

Obi-Wan turned to watch the proceedings. Anakin sidled up next to him. Yoda continued to glare at Hux.

“Do you think he will be alright?” Obi-Wan asked watching concerned as Qui-Gon huddled in the corner of the garden and picked at the grass.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Look, the robin is trying to comfort him right now.” Mace pointed, and sure enough, a common robin hopped up and down near the diaphanous body of Qui-Gon, who smiled at the bird.

All three ghosts watched as the robin continued to bounce and sing in front of their friend who began to laugh and whistle back. The two chatted back and forth before Qui-Gon stood and walked, hovering a couple of inches off the ground, back to the bird bath. the robin flapped circles around his head and sang in delight.

“Watching him communicate like that is still mesmerizing. Even after all this time,” Anakin said quietly. Obi-Wan nodded and smiled as Qui-Gon made amends with the affronted hummingbird.

Mace turned from the window with a serious expression. Catching the look on his face Obi-Wan and Anakin turned from the window as well.

Folding his arms across his chest Mace asked the question they were all thinking, “Do you think they are the real deal?”

Obi-Wan rubbed hand over his chin, thinking. “I don’t know. Those two that came here were certainly not sensitive to our presence. But they did mention that the other members of their team are mediums.”

“We cannot know for sure if they are a hoax yet. Not until we see the mediums,” Anakin said. “When did they say they would be back?”

“Next Friday,” Mace answered.

Anakin stared at Mace. “What day is it?”

Mace shrugged and Obi-Wan with a sigh said, “We’re earth-bound spirits, Anakin. Time has no connection to us anymore.”

Anakin held his hands up in a half shrug and turned to Yoda. “Master, what do you think?”

Yoda harrumphed and broke his staring contest with the back of Hux’s head. “Patient we must be. See if these new people are sensitive to the forces around them, we should.”

All four ghosts stilled as Hux rose from his seat and padded to the kitchen, rinsed out his wine glass and headed into his study. He shivered slightly as he passed close to where they were hovering, his cat following at his heels.

Yoda turned to Mace. “A game we must finish, yes.”

Mace smiled and gestured for the shorter man to lead the way. “I believe it was your turn, I look forward to seeing your next move.”

As the two settled into their respective seats and chess match, Obi-Wan turned to Anakin, worry clearly written across his features. “None of the other tenants went this far. Hardly any of them noticed this place was home to the supernatural.” He waved his hand in the air. “And if they did, they moved out. I believe we have become lax in our discretion. After seven years of having this place to ourselves a bibliophile moves in. I think we got too caught up in the corporeal pleasures, reading, radio, chess, we forgot ourselves. And now—“

Anakin caught Obin-Wan’s hands in his own, bringing his rambling to a halt. “We don’t know for sure what will happen. Let’s take this one day at a time.” Anakin led him over to their reading spots on the window seat. He smiled knowingly, “Tea tonight?”

“Oh, god yes.”

* * *

 

Hux shoved the “ghost write” draft, as Finn had called it, into a desk drawer, it didn’t matter which one, he didn’t care to look at it ever again. He looked out the window level with his desk and stared at the crowded bird bath. He never knew aggressive hummingbirds and docile doves could tolerate each other in close proximity, but he never lived in a rural setting. It seemed that city rules differed from those in the countryside.

Hux opened and powered on his laptop, resigning himself to long hours editing the newest draft from his reluctant author. They were trying to write a short novel about two unlikely people falling in love on a backwoods adventure with one of them being cursed to be an animal by day and a human by night. It was not that Hux disliked the notion or theme of the story, but the author was having the most difficult time getting the timeline and flow of the story right. They kept backtracking and debating over what he thought were minor details. It was frustrating to say the least.

Hux sent the document to his printer and brought out a red ink fountain pen. He preferred to edit by hand. Gathering the warm, newly printed pages, he stapled them together and tossed the package onto his desk. This was the sixth time the author had rewritten this piece from scratch, he only hoped this one was better than the last four.

Millicent jumped up onto his lap, circled twice, and then sat facing him. He did his best to ignore her large green eyes as she continued to stare unblinking. After about seven pages, Millicent reached up and tapped his face with her paw. Hux absentmindedly stroked her from head to tail. The new draft was actually up to par with the author’s usual writing. Not getting the response she wanted, Millicent batted his face again. Hux tilted his head back and away from her attention seeking paw and scratched her behind the ear, not taking his eyes off the paper. Millicent stood up and arched her back in a stretch, flicking her tail across the draft. She turned around and settled back onto Hux’s lap for a nap.

Hux finished his first read-through of the draft and sat back thinking it over and mentally tracing it to the previous chapters and character development. It was good, not great but good. With a few tweaks and a healthy dose of dialog it could fit in nicely with the rest of the story. Uncapping his pen Hux set to work.

Some time later Hux sat back in his chair and stretched. He had finished his edits and composed most of an email explaining some of the plot points that needed to be highlighted more and asking the author to think on where they wanted the characters to go. He glanced at his watch, nearly five hours had passed.

He placed Millicent on the desk where she lay with her belly up and legs akimbo. He quickly finished up the email, sent it, and faxed the edits to the author shifting from foot-to-foot as his machine scanned each page.

Once finished, Hux opened his study door and walked to the kitchen. He could hear Millicent’s bell jingle as she followed him. Hux brought out her food bowl and filled it with dry cat food and placed a dollop of wet food on top. Millicent scarfed it up as though she had been starving. After she finished she decided to lay in the middle of the kitchen and refused to move making Hux step over or around her.

Hux cooked pre-cut chicken in a pan and heated a one-person serving bag of vegetables in the microwave. A glass of sauvignon blanc completed his dinner.

At the dinner table Hux ate in silence scrolling through the news feed on his phone, pointedly skipping the over bloated headlines attached to useless articles. Near the end of his meal, Hux looked over at Millicent who was staring at space just above the window seat. Hux glanced over as well and tightened his jaw. Two new books lay on either end of the seat. The book on the right side was “ _Name of the Wind_ ” by Patrick Rothfuss, and the book on the left was a bibliography on Alexander Hamilton.

Hux looked down at his plate and took a slow breath before finishing the last few bites of food and swallowing the rest of his wine. He washed his dishes and set the kettle on the stove, refusing to look up from his tasks. He retrieved a mug and tea bag then scrolled through his phone while waiting for the water to boil, checking his email and then Facebook; Phasma had posted something about sneezing chickens. Finding nothing of interest, he paged through Amazon’s book recommendations. He checked to see that the stove burner was on its highest setting. His eyes flicked to Millicent. She was staring at the same spot as before, tail swishing over the floor. At the faint beginnings of a whistle Hux quickly switched off the stove and poured still boiling water into his mug. The tea bag inflated like a small balloon.

Picking up his tea, Hux walked towards the stairs calling, “Millie.” The cat stayed seated. Not hearing an answering meow or the jingle of her bell Hux turned. Millicent stayed staring at the same spot, Hux refused to look. “Millicent,” he called more firmly.

Millicent blinked and turned her head toward him. She got up and shook herself then trotted over to him and wound around his legs. “Good girl. Ready for bed?” She meowed and raced up the stairs. Hux walked behind her pointedly ignoring something in his brain telling him to move faster.

Once in his room Hux shut the door firmly and ignored the tight feeling in his chest relaxing slightly. Millicent was already on his bed kneading the duvet and purring. Foregoing his normal routine Hux chose to undress and slide straight under the covers. He picked up his book from the nightstand and delved into the story. He closed the book when he felt himself nodding off, switched off the light and curled around his sleeping cat, trying not to think of what or _who_ was downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, and concerns are welcome.  
> Thank you for reading.


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